That much, she knew
by wanderinglostsoul
Summary: A short one-shot reflective piece on Minerva's relationship with Albus. Nothing too sappy or cheesy I hope, but it may be a little angsty for Minerva sinks into mild self-doubt at some parts. Please R&R, thank you!


A/N: I was inspired by Dame Maggie Smith's comment "McGonagall was madly in love with Dumbledore anyway" and wrote it in defense of McGonagall, in response to Ms. Rowling's comments that she was "a worthy second-in-command" but not Dumbledore's "equal", and on Dumbledore's sexual inclination. I always wondered why she seemed to know so little about Dumbledore's plans for Harry and many other things, and I thought her character deserved more attention and development because really, she cared so much about Harry, Dumbledore, the students, the Order and everything else. I wanted to defend her ignorance and the importance of her character, but I know I'm just biased, because Minerva and Albus are my favourite characters =)

Disclaimer: All characters and events mentioned belong to Ms. J.K. Rowling!

**That much, she knew**

There were many things Minerva McGonagall did not know about Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, despite the fact that she had known him for almost all her life.

He was her teacher and mentor when she first entered Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry almost a century ago, then her close friend whom she corresponded with steadily throughout the years when she was furthering her research in Transfiguration. He became her colleague when she finally joined the faculty at Hogwarts and was her comrade-in-battle in the first wizarding war, and then the second. And perhaps, one might call him her companion into old age as well, for they have stood together at the helm of Hogwarts for so many years, nurturing generations of bright young minds, watching them grow up and become talented wizards and witches who built the future of their world.

She was his apprentice, his close friend, his deputy, and perhaps, the one person who might have knew everything, or at least the most, about him and his life.

Or so the whole wizarding world had thought.

And as such, when reporters (including the ever-obnoxious Rita Skeeter) bugged her for juicy snippets of the life (and lies) of Dumbledore, they always looked highly miffed and incredulous when she answered truthfully that she did not know much. Younger Order members were almost always sorely disappointed when they approached her for clues and advice on Dumbledore's future plans for the battle against the Dark Lord, because despite their close relationship, Dumbledore never told her more than what he thought she ought to have known. He told her that her place was at Hogwarts, to protect it dutifully, to protect their students against any danger that might befall. And that much, she knew – yes indeed, sometimes she put her unique transformation skills to good use for obtaining intelligence on the behalf of the Order, sometimes she put her masterful dueling skills to great use on the battlefield – but her place was always at the school.

And as such, while Severus Snape took an active involvement in the final destruction of the Dark Lord; acting as a double-agent for the Order, treating Dumbledore's cursed hand, teaching Harry the art of Occlumency, aiding Dumbledore in his final dying act, protecting Hogwarts secretly as its Headmaster in what would have been Harry's seventh-year, Minerva remained ignorant of almost all of it. She knew that her first and foremost priority was not to be out battling Deatheaters, but to make sure that Hogwarts would suffer as little as possible at their hands.

Sometimes she wondered what Dumbledore had thought of her and her role in his life, or if he had even thought about her at all, given his eminent presence, numerous acquaintances and never-ending list of things to do. Certainly they met often, nearly everyday during the school term. They worked well together; many a time throughout the many years of their partnership in Hogwarts and in the Order, she had had to clear her throat and bring him back on track when he was drifting off while addressing students or during meetings. They were close enough to have the occasional game of chess over mugs of hot chocolate in his quarters when they both had time off their busy schedules, talking about almost everything under the sun, and they kept up with this favorite routine of theirs ever since she started teaching at Hogwarts till his mortal demise. Once upon a time, in those same quarters, he had helped her with her training to become an Animagus, comforted her when she received news that her parents had been killed by Grindelwald, led her out of darkness when she, at the mere age of twelve, sought to escape from the school to seek brutal revenge on Grindelwald in her blind fury.

Sometimes she wondered why she did not know things about Dumbledore that she ought to have known, by the standards of everyone else in the wizarding world. She knew all his family members by name, but not his deepest, darkest secret which resulted in Arianna becoming his boggart. She knew that he had known Gellert Grindelwald for almost all his life; as she had he, but she did not know that he had once harboured more-than-platonic feelings for the man who had robbed her of her family and considered him his only equal, confidante and partner, even before she had been born.

At times, she would even wonder if she was worthy enough to be his deputy and second-in-command, although everyone else thought it natural (Dolores Umbridge had the nerve to insinuate something further between them when they had the row during Harry's careers' advice session). While she had been a good student of his, she had never been his protégé and his favourite, as Harry had been. She excelled at Transfiguration, but was never as brilliant as for instance Hermione Granger, one of her own favourites, when it came to the rest of the academic subjects. She knew that she was a powerful witch of her own accord; many in their world would claim her to be one of the most powerful witches of her generation (as Poppy Pomfrey would gladly testify to), but she would never join the ranks of Grindelwald, Dumbledore, Voldemort and Harry and become a legend. However, Dumbledore had been kind enough to have mentored her throughout her school years, to have guided her when she first journeyed into the depths of Transfiguration and into the adult world as a young witch, and to have shown her respect as a fellow colleague subsequently, for her skill and leadership. He did not burden her with his deepest, darkest secrets, but he shared with her his findings of life's simple pleasures, such the Muggle-invented sherbet lemon.

Minerva McGonagall did not have a brilliant, dazzling, relationship with Albus Dumbledore when he was alive, contrary to the speculation of many. There was so much about him that would remain an eternal mystery to her after his death. But she loved him all the same. She did not know if the love she felt for him was that of respect and gratitude between a student and a teacher, that of strong loyalty and camaraderie between friends and colleagues, or even, if she had dared to venture into the unknown and dream of the impossible, that of something more-than-platonic.

But she loved him.

That much, she knew.


End file.
